Sweetest of Dreams
by Wenont
Summary: Hundreds of years before the Great War, Legolas had found peace and solstice from the horrors of battle and bloodshed in his dreams. For millenia, always she had been there in his dreams to welcome him and sooth his battle weary soul.
1. Chapter 1

**ooOoo**

**Chapter 1 - Captured**

The Easterling's attack took the four hunters by surprise. As they setup camp for the evening, a small band of eight descended upon Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Tamuril. It was a fierce but brief struggle, with three of the enemy escaping, but not before they had separated Tamuril from the rest of the group. She was badly wounded, taking a deep sword wound to the side, but not before dealing her own version of hurt to the three - one lost a hand, another took a severe blow to his midsection and the third, and largest of the Easterlings, was gashed in several places including both his legs.

As damaged as they were, they had managed to drag her out of the camp, as they had horses to their advantage. By the time Aragorn and the others had finished dispatching the remaining foe, she and the three were long gone and quite far away. Legolas followed her with his mind but she was a faint pulse and he lost her within minutes. Frantically, he broke through the thick brush and made his way to a high bluff, overlooking the camp and the plains below. His elven eyes spotted the three horsemen far in the distance, making their way to the Rohan border. Certain that they were headed to Mordor, Legolas ran back to camp to inform the others.

"We must follow," Said Legolas pleadingly.

"Yes mellon-nîn, we shall but we must plan accordingly. Darkness will be upon us soon and they will be certain to camp for the night. If what you say is true, they shall be tending to their wounds and cannot get too far ahead," said Aragorn somberly.

"I shall go ahead and scout them out Aragorn, for she should not be left in their hands to suffer any longer than can be helped," said Gimli angrily, as he began to head out of camp.

Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder saying, "No Gimli, but a noble gesture. We three must remain together. Leave what can be spared as we shall travel light."

Legolas breathed an uneasy sigh of relief, glad that they would continue after her. Knowing that she was grievously wounded and in greater danger with every passing moment, he cursed silently to himself for not watching her back, as he swiftly took the lead and scouted ahead of the others. She was still recovering from a previous injury and was not at the top of her game when the attack came. He had grown quite fond of this warrior-maiden, in the past month or so she had traveled with them, and the relationship was passing the stage of introductions. He was beginning to fall in love with her.

She had come from Lothloríen, on her way to Gondor, when she met up with the trio one night as they set camp for the evening. She was not startled to see them, as they were to see her, standing in the midst of their camp. None had heard her approach, which was extremely unusual, seeing that both an elf and gifted ranger would have sensed her presence well before her appearance.

Legolas remembered that she had struck an imposing figure standing outside the fire pit, the glow throwing a menacing shadow, as she had both sword and long knife drawn. She was dressed in typical Lórien garb - a silvery gray tunic, black leggings and suede boots, a long gray cloak about her shoulders. She was very well armed, carrying a magnificent Lórien bow and many golden fletched arrows, and two white handled knives, similar in kind to Legolas's, at her back, and a long elvish sword in her hand. She also had a large elvish knife lashed across her lower back. As she stood there, none of the three realized she was a woman, as her voice and form leaned towards the masculine.

3She didn't speak, only glanced from one to the other, until her gaze fell upon Legolas. She slowly, cautiously moved towards the elf, blades still at the ready, so as to get a better look at him.

"You are of the elven kind?" she said in Sindarin, a low voice emanating from her throat, and the glow from the fire finally revealing her sex.

"Aye I am," he replied, now realizing she was a woman. He took a step towards her, which elicited a feral growl from deep within her chest, like that of a wildcat, and a snap in her sword that was now aimed at his chest. The sound greatly startled the noble elf, and he was not accustomed to reacting in such a way. Recalling his step, he dropped his hands to his side, palms open, in front of him.

"Peace m'lady. I...we mean you no harm. I gently remind you that you came upon us, and we are of the same mind as you," Legolas replied gently in elvish. His words seemed to have an effect, as she sheathed her sword but not the knife.

"What name are you called by m'lady?" he asked, relaxing ever so slightly, seeing her defensive posture softening.

"I am called Tamuril fair one," she replied more gently than he had expected.

Fair one? Where had he heard that before? He thought as he replied, "I am Legolas of Mirkwood."

"Aye, Legolas," she repeated, with a look of familiarity, as if she were trying to place his name. "As I thought," she whispered so softly that only the elf could hear. "Twas you whom I felt."

"M'lady?" Said Legolas quizzically.

Aragorn and Gimli silently watched the drama unfolding in front of them, with great interest and amusement. This woman showed no fear or apprehension in the presence of three well-armed warriors, which struck them as a most strange occurrence. She glanced briefly in the direction of the man and dwarf, as she sheathed her knife and stepped closer to the elf. Legolas took in a sharp breath through his teeth, "By the Valar! Her eyes!" he said to himself, as she came closer. Her eyes were a deep violet flecked with turquoise and gold. He had never in his life seen such mesmerizing eyes on either elf or human…or had he? She is most beautiful, he thought, as he caught a glimpse of the raven-black hair beneath her hood.

She captured his eyes with hers and he felt a jolt shoot through him to his boots. Where did THAT come from? He thought, absently raising his hand to his chest. She was now standing right in front of him, less than an arm's length away.

"Legolas, Legolas son of Thranduil," she whispered softly, placing her hand ever so lightly on his cheek. Legolas was taken aback by this show of familiarity and knowledge of his title, and felt another jolt pass through him, as her hand glided over his face. Her touch was barely perceptible but caused his legs to wobble invisibly to all but her. Something was vaguely familiar about this feeling he was getting in her presence, but he couldn't for the life of him place it. He was totally bewildered.

"Aye m'lady, but I am at a loss for I would certainly remember meeting you prior," he found himself whispering in a halting voice.

"Mayhap with time you will remember," she said wistfully, looking directly into his eyes.

He felt them bore through to his very soul, causing him to blink and absently take a step back. "M'lady…" he gasped dropping his gaze to the ground.

Seeing the effect she was having on him, she took a step back and said, " Forgive me m'lord. I unintentionally have you at a disadvantage. Please disregard my words." She then looked at Aragorn and Gimli saying, "Forgive me good lords. I fear my manners are failing, due to lack of use from the long days on the trail. I did not mean to intrude upon your camp. I now take my leave. Good eve," she said, putting her right fist over her heart and bowing respectfully. She eyed Legolas as she rose from the bow and, before anyone could react, she was gone, as if she had never been there.

"By the Valar! She is like the wind!" exclaimed Legolas softly.

"That was quite the encounter Lord elf!" chuckled Gimli.

"I agree. Do you know her Legolas?" asked Aragorn, eyes shining brightly.

"Sadly I do not, soon mayhap I shall!" he said, as he swiftly bound after her, or at least, in the direction that he thought she had gone.

"Shall we follow?" asked Gimli hopefully.

"Nay my friend. This is an adventure belonging to our noble elf. Mayhap this will give him some other diversion to that of war and bloodshed. A breath of peace," said Aragorn chuckling, then added, "Of course, he may find more than bargained for, if her words be true."

Legolas found it difficult to believe that this woman could appear and disappear without him sensing her comings and goings. She was confounding his precisely honed skills and senses of tracking, sending him in circles, and up against dead ends. He knew she knew exactly what she was doing, and he grew more frustrated and, dare he admit, angrier, by the moment. He was very rarely, if ever, brought to such an emotional level, and chastised himself for letting her get to him this way. He was brought out of his thoughts by reaching another dead end. However, this time there was no thread of direction to follow. _She tired of the game!_ his mind screamed. That's what this was…a game.

He was playing into her hand, and he was now furious at the fact that he was not the one in control. He heard a flutter of what he thought was musical laughter in his mind. Her! She was in his head! "No! I do not allow it!" he said angrily, out loud to no one. She had vanished into thin air, as impossible as it seemed. He had never lost the trail of a quarry in his near 3000 years of life on this earth, and his blood now boiled dangerously in his veins. He began trekking back to camp; Eru only knew how long he had been wandering aimlessly in these woods. Words he would never dare utter aloud, coursed through his mind and off of his lips, as he swiftly and silently made his way through the underbrush, her laughter bubbling through his thoughts now and again. Thoroughly infuriated, he stopped short, clenching and unclenching his fists and teeth in unison._Blast you woman! Leave my mind this instant! I am not to be toyed with! Release me! I demand it!_ he shouted in his mind.

"As you wish Legolas Thranduilion," a calming voice said from the darkness. "You are not invincible Prince of Mirkwood." Legolas stood stock-still, bow in hand, arrow notched. "You cannot shoot what you cannot see or sense m'lord." Came the voice again from no certain direction. It came from all around him. Legolas's senses worked in overload, coming up empty as he suddenly realized his situation. Here he was in an unfamiliar forest, an unseen foe having their way with him and he was alone. Well, except for whatever was out there.

"After all these years I would have expected you to have left your elfling ways far behind Legolas. You have not changed all that much," said the voice from the dark, followed by a musical giggle.

"Show yourself! End this foolishness before you regret your actions!" said Legolas angrily, as he slowly turned in a circle, bow in front of him. Tamuril calmly stood directly behind him, as he slowly turned to face her. Startled, he let his arrow fly, not meaning to. She deftly caught it in mid-flight, inches from her chest, and smoothly tossed it back to him, laughing softly. His look of horror instantly turned to fury, as he angrily snatched the arrow from the air and unintentionally snapped it in two.

"Such a waste of a perfectly good arrow my prince," she quipped, calmly walking towards him.

"Do not come any closer!" he snapped, but as he saw her eyes glowing softly at him through the darkness, he softened his tone.

"What is the meaning of this foolishness? You have led me on a merry chase!" he said visibly annoyed.

"I have led you nowhere you did not choose to go Prince of Mirkwood." He sighed. She was right, of course. She took her leave and he followed her. He shook his head and looked up but she was gone. Again.

"By Arda! Will this ever end?" he said to himself as he turned to head back to camp and nearly walked right into her. "Blast!" He hissed, as he reached for her shoulders. She laughed, grasping his forearms in hers, deftly twisting him away from her and sending him reeling backwards, unceremoniously. Her strength! He was half a head taller than her, possessing the strength of 10 times 10 that of men, and this she-devil tossed him aside like so much baggage onto a horse cart.

He rose, brushing himself off and eyeing her cautiously. "Who are you? No…what are you a she-devil?" he hissed as he circled around her.

"Well, you are half right!" she said chuckling.

"Do you not realize you play a dangerous game? You are alone in black woods with a stranger…" Well, he rethought his words, "…an honorable stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. 'Tis not safe here for one of the fair sex," he said matter-of-fact.

"On the contrary fair one, 'tis not I that am in danger, and must I remind you that I did not begin this game as you call it. It does not please me to be followed," she replied, the tone of her voice growing low. He swore that her eyes brightened their glow, as she became more annoyed with him. He grew uneasy. "Nervous mellon-nîn?" She asked, moving closer towards him. He found that he couldn't move, not a muscle, and that he no longer held his bow in his hand. It had somehow fallen at his feet.

She was now directly in front of him and he caught her intoxicating scent. It was like a field of wildflowers, thick and heady, and he took in a sharp breath as he peered into those mesmerizing violet eyes. "I bear you no harm fair one," she whispered, as she took his face in her hands and kissed him softly, brushing her lips across his. He again felt that bolt of lightening blast through his being, as he fought to retain control over himself. She parted the kiss and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. His eyes followed her every move, as she threaded her long slender fingers through his golden hair, toying with his braid.

She brought her gaze back to his blue eyes, noting that he was fighting to conceal his building passion mingled with anger within them. She didn't have to see it in his eyes to know his emotions. She dropped her hands from his face with a sigh and stepped back a bit. Legolas found that he could now move again and, reaching with the speed of a striking snake, grasped her wrists tightly.

She allowed this action on his part and looked up at him calmly. "Forgive me Thranduilion. I fear that all has been for naught. You truly do not know who I am. I understand your anger and confusion fair one. Please, I shall leave you be," she said, easily removing herself gently from his steel grasp, then turned and walked slowly away from him and into the darkness.

Once he recovered from the ease in which she escaped from him, again, he found his voice and called out, "Wait! Tamuril! Please do not leave me for a second time this eve. You cannot speak as you do and then leave me to ponder such for all eternity!"

She stopped walking but didn't turn around. He approached her and gently put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. He was met with those eyes again. "By the Valar they are inescapable," he sighed to himself, feeling that feeling again. "How am I to have known you m'lady? What do I not see? Honestly, I would remember your eyes, by the Valar, if nothing else!" he said in exasperation.

"For me to explain would throw you deeper into confusion, fair one. Mayhap we can begin anew and forget what has transpired this night, so as to bring the past to the present on its own?" she replied, with a raised brow.

"And how prey tell shall that be gone about?" He replied, arms crossed, raising his own brow.

"By removing my words from your mind, as before I met in your camp. Quite easily done, fair one."

"Nay! I shant have you tangle my wits more that what has been past this eve. My mind is my own."

"Aye that is for right!" She chuckled.

He glared at her in annoyance, which caused her more mirth. "As you wish, fair one. I do not wish to leave you unhinged, or knock about your thoughts in that way against your will." That seemed to put the elf at ease._I shall need to remove these thoughts before we go forward mayhap,_ she thought to herself. "Fair one, I cannot say much of the past, save that we were quite fond of one another. This will have to suffice until you come to your own realization," she said, lightly brushing her hand over his cheek with the back of her hand.

He blinked then took her hand from his face and kissed it. He looked into her eyes and promptly forgot what he was going to say. "This has been quite the bedeviling of eves m'lady. I have spent the better part of it running in circles and now, I have taken leave of my wits. Come, enough. Let us go back to my camp, as you are most welcome to travel with us as long as you have need. 'Tis safer in numbers m'lady, and I would feel much at ease with you being with us than wandering the countryside alone."

"Thank you fair one. I believe I shall accompany your small contingent, as I have traveled many too much days without the sound of another voice."

He offered her his arm and they continued on to his camp. Aragorn started as Legolas and Tamuril silently emerged from the brush in front of him.

"I see your quest was successful mellon-nîn." He said, eyeing the couple.

Legolas chuckled and said, "Nay Aragorn, I found her not. Twas the contrary," patting her arm.

Aragorn looked at him quizzically as they both sat by the fire. He and Gimli traded glances and smiled silently. Gimli then went to bed down for the night, as Aragorn took watch. Legolas and Tamuril chatted quietly late into the night and greeted the dawn watching the sunrise, arm in arm. She was pleased that he had not mentioned any of the previous night's events, content that he would regain memories of the past on his own.

She vowed not to intentionally jog his memory with past familiarities. She knew how he felt when she touched him and when he gazed into her eyes, knowing that he found both vaguely familiar, not knowing why. Well, that piece would have to do for now, as it was all he had held onto after all this time. She could at least be thankful for that.

Tamuril awoke to find herself lashed to a tree and in excruciating pain. She looked at the gaping wound in her side, still oozing dark red blood. She spoke a binding chant and, gratefully, watched the edges of the wound knit together. The poison was another matter, and one she wasn't going to be able to deal with in her current predicament. She scanned the disheveled camp, eyeing the three wounded men sitting by the fire. "She took my hand the bitch!" Growled the first, as a moan escaped the second she had run through. Not deep enough,….pity... she thought. The big one was hobbling around the pit, pulling a large piece of meat off the spit in the center.

"Silence you whores! She will pay, and dearly, very soon, but first we need to get to Mordor."

"I will not wait for my pleasure Brogur," stated the man with the belly wound.

"Nor will I!" voiced the second.

Brogur pondered their protests. What harm could it do? She would be used and killed just the same when they got to Mordor. "I shall have her first, vermin! Make yourselves well enough to hold her down for me and you can have what's left of her!" he laughed hoarsely, gazing in her direction.

She was in dire straights, as her powers were expended due to her weakened condition. Hopefully, they would regenerate quickly now that the binding chant had stopped the bleeding. She couldn't even release herself from her bindings - a most easy task otherwise. She was brought from her thoughts by the rasping voice of Brogur, muttering as he made his way towards her.

"Whore! So you are awake. Hope you got plenty of rest as you shall have a busy eve!" he laughed, as he roughly released her from the tree, she falling roughly to the ground gasping. He viciously drew her off the ground, hit her with a backhand across the face and threw her towards the others. "Hold her down!" he bellowed, undoing his belt and leggings. The two pinned her arms above her head.

She didn't utter a sound.


	2. Chapter 2

**ooOoo**

**Chapter 2 - Rescued?**

As he made his way swiftly over the rough trail, sound suddenly exploded in Legolas's head, as a piercing scream echoed throughout his mind, followed by another and a third, this time calling his name - then followed by silence. Aragorn watched as the elf hit his knees up ahead of him on the path, holding his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. "Mellon!" cried Aragorn, making his way quickly to his side, putting a hand on the elf's shoulder.

"They torture her Aragorn!" cried Legolas, jumping to his feet and swiftly running up the trail like a deer. Gimli and Aragorn followed as best they could.

Tamuril lay crumpled under a horse blanket, in the brush next to the fire pit. She was beaten and bloodied from her encounter with Brogur. Her silence and lack of emotion earned her his violent wrath, among other things. "I shall take my turn now Brogur," said the handless man, as he rose and began making his way towards the girl.

"No you shall not as I'm not yet done with her!" A vicious fistfight ensued, as Legolas peered from the forest edge. He knew she was very close but where? He cursed her powers of invisibility at this moment. He watched as Brogur leveled the one-handed man, pummeling him mercilessly, as Aragon and Gimli came to Legolas's side.

The three burst forth, taking the trio by surprise. As Legolas aimed at Brogur, Tamuril's voice was calmly heard saying, "No fair one. This one, he is mine." Aragorn stood stunned, as she silently made her way to his side and gently took Andúril from his hands. She picked up one of the fallen man's swords, as she strode past, and threw it at Brogur's feet. "Pick it up," she said, her voice calm but filled with a rage none of her companions had ever beheld to their ears by a woman. She stood before them, bloodied and badly wounded, yet was challenging this bear of a man to the death.

"Tamuril please…" pleaded Legolas, as he came to her side. He was gently stopped in his tracks as she slowly raised her hand in front of him. He could advance no further. For the first time since entering the Easterling camp, Legolas got a firsthand look at just how serious Tamuril's condition was. Her leggings and tunic were covered in blood, she had a deep ragged gash over her right eye and blood trickled from her lips, as well as her nose.

"Swing bitch," Brogur said, picking up the sword. "I will enjoy killing you as much as I did…." He never finished the sentence, as she drove Andúril through his groin. He stumbled backwards gasping, holding the sword in front of him, swinging blindly, as she swung Andúril mightily through his midsection. Falling to his knees, he looked up in time to see the blade come about, as she took his head from his neck.

"Damnable bastard!" They heard her hiss, as Gimli stepped out of the way of the head, as it skittered across the ground into the fire pit, settling right side up, the flames engulfing it. She turned back to the headless corpse, watching it twitch several times, as she reached for the dead man's shirt, wiped the blood from the great sword and handed it, hilt first, back to Aragorn. He followed her with his eyes, as she found her weapons and donned them with great difficulty, it being evident that she was in great pain.

Legolas approached her slowly and she allowed him to take her in a gentle embrace. He noted that every muscle in her body was tense and rock hard, as he held her, totally unaware of what tortures she had been through. Never had her response to his embrace been so cold and forced. He felt her fighting for control of herself deep within, but it was not a struggle that was outwardly apparent. She gently pulled away, looking into his eyes and he was shocked to see nothing but emptiness -Her eyes were devoid of all feeling, all emotion, and all life.

"We must tend to your wounds meleth-nîn," he said softly, kissing the top of her head.

"Nay fair one. I shall care for them myself, as I need to seek medicinals from the wood to care for the most grievous, as soon as possible."

Aragorn then approached her saying, "I have much in the way of medicinals m'lady. Please allow me to tend to your wounds."

She looked at him sadly shaking her head. "Nay noble lord, the medicinals which I seek you would not possess. This I trust. I must seek them now, as time swiftly passes. I must have the first draught before this eve," she said quietly, as she donned her sword and disappeared into the wood. The trio looked after her in stunned silence.

Legolas started to go after her but Gimli caught his arm. "Nay Laddie, leave her be. Me thinks she hurts more in the heart than the wounds that bleed. She'll return soon enough," said the dwarf, turning the elf back towards the camp. They then got down to the business of tending to the dead, and by the time Tamuril silently stepped back into the camp, the place was tidy and dinner was cooking.

Tamuril didn't allow herself to be sensed upon her return, and she silently prepared the plants she had collected for an infusion, on the edge of the tree line. Once done, she emerged in front of the trio gathered at the fire, seemingly from nowhere, hanging a small pot, containing the herbs, onto the spit and pouring in some water from a flask. "Tamuril," Legolas whispered, reaching for her hand. She allowed him to take her hand and draw her to a seat on the log next to him. They all sat in silence, watching the glowing embers of the fire. As she gazed into the glowing coals, Legolas caught a brief glimpse of emotion from her gaze, feeling a shiver go down his spine. Flaming rage was boiling within her and he could see she fought it back with difficulty. He had never seen such from her and it made him greatly uneasy.

She suddenly turned her gaze to meet his, taking him off guard. He quickly lowered his gaze to her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. She smiled sadly at him then reached for the pot over the fire. She nodded to him and then made her way back to the edge of the tree line, where she had prepared the herbs earlier. Not waiting for the infusion to cool, she poured the pleasant smelling liquid into a cup and began to slowly sip it.

She sat against a tree sipping the tea for a brief time and, upon finishing, poured the remaining liquid from the pot into a flask. Rising, she adjusted her weaponry and smoothed out her bloodstained tunic. She had allowed Aragorn to treat her cuts and bruises, while she sat at the fire in silence, so there was some comfort in her movements.

She walked towards the fire where the three still sat, contemplating whether she should tell them she was leaving them for a brief time. She sighed and shook her head, turning back to depart into the forest. She hesitated briefly, glancing at Legolas who sat with his back towards her. He did not deserve this pain that he carried in his heart for her._Fair one, hear me. I must leave for several days. Do not follow, I implore you. If I do not return on the seventh day from this night, do not wait for me, for I shall no longer walk this earth._ She paused as she watched Legolas physically react to her thoughts in his mind. As he began to rise and look in her direction, she had disappeared into the darkness of the night. As she moved swiftly through the trees, she called to him once more. _Do not follow, son of Thranduil, but hear me once more. My actions are not focused upon you or the others. My heart breaks to see what pain I have caused you. I must go alone to heal great wounds, untouchable by man, and I shall do all in my power to return to you meleth-nîn. Please try to understand and have faith. Know this - I love you Legolas - more than life itself. Peace for now and Namarie lovely one._

Legolas was stopped in midstep, as Aragorn and Gimli watched him intently. Had he heard correctly? She loved him? By the Valar, he loved her as well but thought better of saying such, wanting more time to spend with her before...before what exactly? This catastrophe unfolding? When would he tell her? During their next skirmish? The next battle, next week, next year?

"What is it mellon-nîn? What pains you so? Such anguish I have not seen since Gandalf was lost to us," asked Aragorn gently.

"She leaves us Aragorn. She leaves and may not return. She says that if she does not return, on the seventh day, then she will no longer walk the earth, that she will be as dead. She has bade me not to follow, though my heart says otherwise. She talks of healing a great wound, untouchable by man, and I cannot for the life of me understand her meaning."

Aragorn studied the pained look upon the elf's face, pondering his words. He rose and slowly made his way to the place where Tamuril had prepared her medicinals. He studied the ground, eyes searching for clues of what she had collected. The darkness masked all from his sight and he could make out nothing.

"Legolas mellon, I need your elven eyes," he called to the elf. She had shrouded her work well, and there seemed to be nothing left to indicate she had even worked in the spot at all.

"What am I seeking Aragorn?" asked the elf.

"Discarded plant stems, flowers, leaves, anything of the like," answered Aragorn, now on hands and knees, feeling the ground with his hands.

Legolas quickly found the remnants of a stem, with one or two leaves still attached. He was quite a distance from where Tamuril had worked, so made his way back to Aragorn. "I have found this," he said, handing the plant to Aragorn, who studied it in the firelight for a moment.

His face suddenly fell, as he realized what he held in his hands. "No," he said quietly gazing at the stem in his hands.

"What is it Aragorn? And why does it trouble you?" asked Legolas in concern.

"This is Eredhgwanath," said Aragorn, holding it aloft. Legolas stared blankly at him. "Seeds Death."

"Seeds Death? What a name of malice," replied the elf. "What is its use?" he asked, as Aragorn looked off absently in the distance, anger burning in his eyes.

"This would explain her haste to collect the plants and prepare the infusion. It must be taken within twenty four hours of the ..." his voice cracked, "...attack to be of usefulness." He paused.

"Aragorn, what is its use?" Legolas said again, this time in urgency.

Aragorn continued as if he didn't hear the elf. "Tis a very toxic elixir that causes death as much as it cures. She will have already taken the first draught, needing to take it twice a day for four days - She will be deathly ill by the morrow, and either cured or dead by the end of the forth. If she survives, it will take almost as many days to recover from its effects, hence the seven days she gave for herself to return." Aragorn stared down at the stem he twirled between his fingers.

Legolas put both hands firmly on Aragorn's shoulders, eyes filled with anger and fear, saying calmly through clenched teeth, "What is its use Estel? Its use!"

Aragorn calmly looked into the elf's face with pained eyes and said, "She has had her will forced upon mellon. This..." he held the plant aloft, "...is used to kill the seed of life." Legolas's face froze in shock and disbelief. Gimli grunted in disgust and eyed the forest wishing to go after her.


	3. Chapter 3

**ooOoo**

**Chapter 3 - Death's Door**

"Yet she said nothing! Nothing..." whispered Legolas, as he sank to a log by the fire, head in his hands. "untouchable by man...what was her meaning?"

"Males cannot collect these plants mellon. Only women, and only they can prepare and minister the medicinal. Should I, or any of us, have touched her, the infusion or plants themselves, twould have rendered all useless." Said Aragorn, sitting beside him.

"What shall we do now? Sit on our hands while she slowly dies somewhere, out there? She disappears into thin air only to appear out of it at will. I am unable to track her, she shuts off her mind to me so I cannot feel her presence, she masks her emotions, so as not to give away her feelings to me. She is of mystery and confounding my senses, as to render me useless in coming to her aid," said the elf in despair.

"She does not wish you to do so and we must wait her out. If, by the seventh day, we hear or see nothing, we shall go seek her."

"By then it would be too late, Aragorn."

"Listen to me mellon, you do not wish to see the effects of this herb, and it is quite clear that she would not wish you to either. Please, Legolas respect her wishes. Stand down and spend your time praying hard to the Valar for her safe return," Aragorn said as he rose. He stopped then sat back down again.

"Legolas mellon-nîn, I know your feelings for her. Do not let love cloud your mind and breach her request. Leave her be Legolas. It is in the hands of fate," he said quietly, noting the unshed tears welling up in the elf's eyes.

Tamuril lay curled up in a ball at the foot of a great oak, at the edge of a small pond, gasping for breath. It had been two days since she left the camp, and had bled heavily since the second draught of the infusion. Her head pounded and her skin was clammy to the touch. At times, her body burned with fever one moment, only to be plunged into icy chills the next, throwing her body into convulsing spasms. Through all of this, she kept contact with Legolas, but keeping him from reaching her at the same time - making sure he did not follow. By now she knew he knew of her ordeal, as she had felt great anger and despair fill his heart and mind the first night that she had crept away.

She grimaced and clenched her teeth as another great wave of pain coursed through her abdomen, followed by the gush of warm blood from below her waist, flowing into the pond. Her mind began to fade for the first time, and she struggled to maintain both consciousness and her thoughts. He must not find her…

Legolas woke with a jolt, great pain moved through his mind, as he tried to shake himself from the throes of sleep. He took in a sharp breath as another wave of pain moved through. "Tamuril!" It registered. He had contact with her! His mind raced, as his eyes searched the dark wood and his thoughts reached out to pinpoint her location. Faint, nearly imperceptible - he had her! Silently, he donned his weaponry, rolled up his bedding, and packed lambas bread in his tunic. Without being noticed, he bound into the woods following his mind's eye.

Tamuril awoke with the sensation of wind moving through her pain-wracked mind. She struggled to clear her thoughts and focus on this sensation. "No!" she gasped. He was coming for her. It was as she had feared. She could not control her mind in unconsciousness with the level of pain she was in. She was very weak and her powers were almost non-existent, but what she did have was the newest of her gifts - a blue-white aura of protection that seemed to be at her command, no matter her condition. However, it didn't help to prevent her thoughts from leaving her mind and guiding the one who loved her.

She struggled to her feet and made her way to the pond's edge, as another wave of blood poured forth. "Day three," she sighed weakly, as she reveled in the cooling water wrapped about her. She had to mask her presence and fade into her surroundings, as she was unable to travel or put Legolas off her trail. Rising slowly to her feet, she unsteadily made her way through her camp, removing and concealing all that would give her presence away. Satisfied that the place was as it was when she first came upon it, her gaze moved to the trees soaring high above. She sighed. The bleeding would cease after the next draught, but she'd have to be prepared in case it didn't. Taking the flask from her hip, she poured out a measured draught and drank it quickly. Replacing the flask, she ever so slowly made her way up the trunk and high into the canopy. She then lashed herself to a thick and strong bough, after wrapping herself in a blanket and her cloak. She was now invisible to both mortal and immortal eyes - Her mind however, was an open book to the noble warrior swiftly making his way to her.

As the medicinal began to take its course, Tamuril focused all her remaining strength into her thoughts. One after another she cut them off until silence echoed throughout her mind. She was well aware that she may not awake in the morn, and the last thing she wanted was Legolas to find her that way. Her eyes grew heavy and her body went limp as she drifted into a draught laden sleep.

Legolas came to a dead standstill - the light of her mind was suddenly snuffed out in his. He was close, very close and now nothing. He closed his eyes, focusing on the last known direction he was following. No. She did not move ahead of him. As far as he could tell, she was in the same place. He began to move again in the same direction as before, praying that he could keep the course blindly. By late evening, on the third day, he reached the place in the wood where her mind had led him to. It was as if he were the only person to ever have stepped foot there. He was absolute in his thoughts that this was the right place.

He began to scan the glade, eyes glowing in the darkness, seeking, searching, for any sign that she had been here. He saw and felt nothing. He didn't even smell the scent of blood that he knew by now would have surrounded her. His gaze rose to the canopy above, carefully scanning the top of each tree surrounding the glade. Nothing. Frustrated, he dropped to the ground and leaned against the foot of a great oak, contemplating the apparent foolishness of following an untrailable creature. He hissed angrily, through his teeth, at the thought of being so close and finding nothing, no one. He decided to stay put for the night and make his way back to camp in the morning. In the meantime, he leaned back against the tree and gazed at the star blanketed sky.

Just before dawn on the fourth day Tamuril weakly opened her eyes and immediately felt his presence strongly. She looked around the tree canopy, then placed her hand on the rough bark of the bough she was lashed to. By the Valar! He sits below this tree! she thought silently, careful to keep her mind cloaked. She reached for the flask by her side and silently poured a drought, drinking it quickly. She had not bled during the night, which was a good sign, but this day brought unbearable pain and spasms. She prayed she would not cry out.

Legolas stood and stretched, making his way to the pond's edge, and threw cool water over his face then filled his flask. As he was beginning to turn away from the edge, something caught his keen eye there in the dark mud. He lightly pressed his fingers on the stained soil and, turning his fingers to his eyes, he beheld a faint reddish tinge. Blood. She was good….very, very good and this was just luck on his part. She was here, somewhere and he wasn't leaving until he found her.

He began to scan the tree canopy in earnest, taking in every detail down to each leaf and twig. By late afternoon, he had scanned every tree top in a 50 yard radius, seeing nothing. Visibly, she was not there but instinct told him otherwise. I will wait her out, he thought, as he settled beneath the same tree as the night before. Tamuril was very close to death now and still had one last draught to take. As dusk settled among the trees, she weakly opened her flask and poured out the last of the elixir. Drinking it down, she went to replace the cover when it clinked ever so softly against the leather side. She froze. Had he heard it? No animal or human would have ever heard it, but one elf did.

Legolas's head snapped up as he came out of a doze. He jumped to his feet and combed the tree's canopy with his eyes. She was up there somewhere and he knew it for certain now. He saw nothing but began to climb anyway, slowly as to not startle her. Startle her? Who was he kidding? She probably knew he was there long before he'd even arrived. She heard his approach, through the fog of pain tearing through her mind and body. She rested her hand on the rough bark once again, and watched as Legolas climbed right past her, never seeing her nestled in the crook of the limb. She left her hand on the bark and fought off unconsciousness._He must not touch me!_ she thought, and she wrestled to stay awake, as he made his way back to the ground. Once he was at the foot of the tree, she gave into oblivion and drifted into a fitful slumber.

_How did she do it?_ he thought to himself._I saw nothing but felt a presence. Right under my nose!_ he thought angrily. Well, this was the last day and he felt comfortable that she was still among the living. He would simply need to wait out the night and see what the morning brought. He settled into his bedroll that he had laid at the foot of the oak. His view of the canopy was unhindered, so as to be able to see any movement should it be revealed. Content that all would be well on the morrow, Legolas dozed lightly.

Deep into the night and several hours before dawn, Legolas woke to a shattering pounding in his head. He sat up groggily, rubbing his temples, peering into the tree's branches, and couldn't believe what he saw. A gray Lórien cloak, black boots and leggings. She was there all the time! 200 feet above his head. If he was able to see and feel her she was in dire straits. He immediately climbed the trunk, and was almost to her side when her eyes snapped open and flashed with anger and great pain. "Do not touch me fair one!" she whispered weakly. "Do not touch me until the dawn. I will still be here at that time. Kela meleth-nîn, kela - leave me my love, leave me." Her eyes closed and she went limp.

Legolas fought the urge to gather her up in his arms and take her back to camp, but Aragorn's words swirled in his mind, "Should I, or any of us, have touched her, the infusion or plants themselves, twould have rendered it useless." Reluctantly, he backed off, making his way to the ground. Frustrated as he was once again, he was relieved that she was found and alive. The problem now was how was he going to get through these last few hours without losing his mind, knowing she was right above him suffering terribly.


	4. Chapter 4

**ooOoo**

**Chapter 4 - Choices of an Immortal**

As the sun rose, Tamuril was awakened by the presence of Legolas, brushing the hair from her eyes. "Tami, I am here to take you back to camp. You will recover there meleth-nîn," he said softly, as he gathered her in his arms and swiftly brought her to the ground. She was very, very weak and barely conscious of his company. He had removed her blood stained clothing and wrapped her in his soft bedroll and clean blanket. He had washed her clothing in the pond and hung it to dry by a small fire he had built.

Her hand went to her side and she realized that he had re-bandaged her earlier sword wound. He came and knelt by her, lifting her head and helping her take some cool water from his flask. After she finished, he laid her back down and pulled the lambas bread from his tunic. Breaking off a small piece, he placed it in her mouth and watched as she swallowed, giving her a second piece. She tried weakly to draw her arm from under the blanket and Legolas drew it out for her. He took her hand, softly kissing it and holding it to his chest. "I truly love you Tamuril and this has nearly killed me. Why did you not tell me of your ordeal? Why meleth-nîn?"

"Forgive me Legolas, but I cannot speak of it now. Please, give me time to heal, as what I need presently is for you to hold me meleth-nîn. That is all I ask," she whispered, as he leaned against a tree and drew her, blanket and all, up to his chest in a protective embrace. She curled against his chest and drifted off to sleep.

"Tamuril, Tami…meleth-nîn? 'Tis time we leave," whispered Legolas several hours later, as he gathered her in his arms and began the long trek back to camp. He stopped several times during the night to give her water and to check that she was well. The last time they stopped, Tamuril asked for her clothing, as she was still wrapped in his blanket.

"I do not wish to enter camp as infirm. I shall walk in on my own legs." He chuckled. Stubborn and proud. While she dressed, he scanned ahead, figuring they'd be in camp mid-morrow. She was barely able to stand, so he would carry her as far as needed, which meant a later arrival time. No matter, she was safe and with him. These were the only two things important to him at this moment.

"Legolas?"

"Aye meleth-nîn?"

"How far from camp are we?"

"Mayhap a day Tamuril."

"Ai'."

"Why do you ask?"

"I do not wish for you to have to carry me any longer. Tis burdensome for you."

"Tis not Tami, as I can carry you forever. You are as a feather."

"I am well enough now to walk fair one, is my meaning."

"That is not poss…ible…" replied Legolas, turning to see her standing strongly before him. "Aragorn told me that twould be days before you recovered!"

"Aye, and twould he be true to his word, if I were of the Race of Man, which I am not."

Legolas was stunned. Tamuril could see his glowing eyes blinking in the darkness. "And what race are you pray tell, if not mortal? I do not see arched ears, as are mine, so of the Race of Elves you are not."

"Nay, I am not of the Elven kind, but you are close."

"Close? How can one be close without being? You are confounding me Tamuril." She chuckled in that musical way, as she nimbly bounded to his side. "Honestly Tamuril, since the day we met, you have caused devilry with me. A pleasant fix granted, but a play with my wits nonetheless. I have never come upon one such as you in all my life," he said smiling, taking her hand.

"And such a short life it has been too!" she said happily, kissing his cheek and tapping his nose, giggling.

"Short?" He snorted in laughter. "I have walked this earth for neigh 3000 years. I may be young for an elf, but it has been anything but short meleth-nîn…"

"I am much older.." Her words nearly stopped his heart.

"Older? How much …" he swallowed, "…Older?"

"Neigh 7500 winters more that that…."

Legolas stared at her in stunned silence. 10,500 years old. That would make her older than Lord Elrond, older than Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, older than his own father and Middle Earth itself? "Surely you jest Tamuril? The medicinals have clouded your mind…."

"I jest not fair one." Her voice taking on a serious tone.

"Tamuril, if your words hold true, the time of your birth would be before the first age. Only the Valar are older!"

"Of this I am aware."

"Tamuril! What are you saying?"

"I am of the Valar, fair one."

Legolas nearly swooned. He was gazing at one of the creators of his race. "Which of the Valar are you? And are you truly called Tamuril?"

"Which one? Ai'! Nay, I am not of the ruling Holy Ones but I am the daughter of two."

"Which two?"

"Manwë and Varda."

"Great gods!" Exclaimed Legolas, shaking slightly.

"Yes they are." She said, laughing musically. "I am called Tamuril, as that is what I have named myself presently."

"You are named otherwise?"

"Aye. I am named another but not for this earth any longer."

"How is it that you can be wounded or even die? You can die, yes?"

"I have the traits of both elves and Valar, with a touch of Maia. Yes I can die but not as you or mortals do. When I die I pass to Valinor, not to the Houses of Mandos."

"You have died before meleth-nîn?" asked Legolas in bewilderment.

"Aye. Several times, fair one."

"Why, as blood of the Valar do you die? I do not understand Tamuril. The Valar gave us, mortals and immortals life. How can it be taken from those who created it?"

She was silent for a moment, trying to find the words to explain in a way he could understand. She turned to face him, taking his hands in hers. "When I chose to walk this earth, certain properties of my kind were withheld from me. One among them was the gift of true immortal life. I can be wounded by, but cannot be slain by, mortal hands, similar to the Maia, but I can be slain by that of an immortal and one of my own kind. As can Gandalf."

"But this medicinal, you nearly died."

"I ministered it by my own hand, fair one." Legolas nodded to this statement in understanding.

"The attack by the Easterlings. You are able to carry life?"

"Aye. Another gift withheld is the ability to choose or not to choose to bear children, as is with the elves, who can choose to have children at will, or not."

"And you grow weak when injured? You must regain your strength before you are whole I have noted."

"Aye. I am vulnerable there as well. Much has been withheld when I walk among the children of the earth."

"You are whole and hale while in Valinor then?"

"Oh aye, love. All my attributes, given by birthright, are with me there. I have different form as well."

"You are beautiful as you are Tamuril and I cannot imagine how you can be improved upon."

She giggled. "You are so sweet and kind meleth-nîn."

"You said when you are in Valinor that your holy gifts are whole. Do you go between worlds often?"

"I return now and again to enjoy my true existence awhile, and return to earth as I feel the urge. This I am allowed."

"When was your last time here, before you appeared to me presently meleth-nîn."

She took in a breath at hearing his question. Mayhap it was the time? He may remember? "I walked this earth neigh 1500 winters past and remained 500 before returning to Valinor."

"You returned to Valinor how meleth-nîn?"

"I died." She said softly, as she watched his eyes intently, searching for sudden recognition in his gaze. His face remained unreadable but her rose and took a few steps away from her.

"Tamuril? May I see your eyes meleth-nîn?" He said, turning and reaching out his hand, summoning her to stand with him. She obliged and gazed into his eyes for a few moments before she dropped it briefly, but he captured her face gently in both hands, and held her gaze for a long moment. His mind reeled, as memories long buried began floating to the surface. Had it been that long ago? She didn't look the same but the feelings were unmistakable. He felt that familiar deep jolt and warmth bathe his soul. By the Valar! Could it be possible? She didn't have the same name but the eyes, those beautiful violet orbs took his breath away, as did the golden ones he remembered from long ago. The laugh, the fiery spirit, these traits were unmistakable as well.

"Tamuril? What do you not tell me? I am trying to understand what I am feeling. Help me see what seems most obvious to you."

She dropped her gaze and bit her lip. No. She couldn't plant the seed. He had to see all for himself. Her heart was breaking as she heard herself saying, "I cannot seed your memory with thoughts that you already hold within Legolas. Please do not feel me to be cruel, as I am crying within. If there is a shred of memory left, you must seek it out on your own fair one."

Legolas felt a great wave of pain and anguish welling up within this beautiful creature, as he held her face in his hands. Slowly, gently he tipped her chin up to his, kissed her lips and drew her close against him in a tender embrace.

"Come love. We must continue if we are to make camp by dusk. We can speak more then."

"Aye, fair one, I would like that."

Swiftly they made their way through the darkening wood and silently emerged from the trees into the camp, quietly making their way to their sleeping area unseen. Legolas laid out their rolls and both crawled under the covers, wrapped in each other's arms. "Sleep meleth-nîn, and we shall speak again in the morn." Not hearing a response, he shifted slightly to gaze at the sleeping beauty in his arms. He chuckled, kissed the top of her head and drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**ooOoo**

**Chapter 5 - Sweet Dreams and Love Lost**

As he slept, memories of the past gently infiltrated his slumber. Everything about Tamuril seemed frustratingly familiar except her eyes. He had never seen violet eyes before or the flecks of turquoise and gold. He blinked the haze from his eyes and stared at the night sky. He had seen eyes of gold with flecks of blue and violet….They were a rare sight, and had taken his breath away then just as hers did now. He looked down at Tamuril curled against his chest. He closed his eyes and let the memories flow freely through his mind.

She was an exquisite beauty, surprisingly well skilled in elven woodcraft, he thought, as he peered unseen through the underbrush. She was tall and slender, having long black hair to her waist. She carried a great long bow at her back and an elvish sword at her side. He had watched her take down a deer with remarkable skill, which she was presently dressing out. She laughed a bit, which seemed odd as there was no one she could see about, but the sound of her laughter is what took him by surprise. It was as if a song - musical notes.

She laughed again saying, "Come join me fair one, as there is plenty." Legolas nearly fell out of his hiding place. She couldn't possibly know he was there! Fair one? Now where had he heard that before? he thought, as he continued to let the memories flow. His heart raced as he watched her slowly make her way to the exact place he hid. She reached out her hand, which he took, not intending to, and that's when he saw her eyes. Amber and gold orbs, flecked with turquoise surrounded by a violet band.

"M'lady, forgive the intrusion as I heard the waterfall and came to water my horse, finding you as well. I mean no harm," he stammered.

She giggled more than laughed saying, "Of course you mean no harm fair one. If you did you would be on your way to the House of Mandos, and not holding my hand." Legolas looked at her quizzically. "Do you think that this bow at my back or sword at my side to only be ornaments?" She giggled as she led him to the fire pit. "Twould seem your horse and mine get along well," she said, nodding towards Arod and a gorgeous black mare, nuzzling each other and standing side by side.

"M'lady, what are you called?" he asked, still in shock that he had been discovered as well as his horse.

"Presently I am called Naurêl."

"Presently?"

"Aye. I have had several names. This one now pleases me," she said, as she gazed into the cold fire pit. Doing so caused the wood to burst into flame, nearly sending Legolas reeling off of the log he sat upon. She steadied his arm, laughing brightly, filling his ears with sweet melody.

"Forgive me m'lady, are you a sorceress?"

"Nay m'lord." She said, placing a large piece of meat on a spit and secured it over the fire. They sat in silence, mesmerized by the flames. Naurêl broke the silence by saying, "Legolas son of Thranduil, fair one, what brings you to such a remote part of the forest?"

Legolas's heart skipped a beat._I have not told her my name!_ he thought.

"Yes you have fair one." Her voice floated through his mind.

"Naurêl! What are you? Who are you?" he said in anger and fear, as no one had ever searched his mind or done anything resembling what he had see her do this night.

"Someone who has been a part of you your whole life." He looked at her dumbfounded. "Your dreams Legolas, remember your dreams. It is there that we first knew of one another."

How could she know of my dreams? That is a private place! "What of my dreams m'lady, and what business would it be of yours to toy with them?" He spat, now thoroughly annoyed.

"I do nothing with your dreams fair one. It was you who reached out to me. Now I am here," she said, turning the spit.

"I called out to you?"

"Aye you did and you have done so for many years."

He was silent for awhile, pondering her words. For many years now he had indeed had dreams and visions where he beheld a woman always near a waterfall. She would most often appear in his dreams after battles and much bloodshed. She was a comfort to his mind and heart when he finally was able to lay his head in sleep. Always, these dreams gave him peace and she comfort.

There had been several times, in the distant past, that his dreams stayed his hand from grieving to death over the passing of friends and loved ones to the horrors of war. When he chanced to sleep, she was always there, beckoning for him to join her by the crystal pool fed by the waterfall. She would take his head in her lap and sing him to sleep, a familiar sweet and soothing elvish melody that healed his heart and quelled the grief. Never had he known her name or the fact that she were even real. To him his visions were a place of comfort, his secret to retaining his sanity during dark times. Could this beauty be this woman? She had called him 'fair one' too.

"Naurêl, in my dreams, how do you come to me?"

"I come to you not fair one. You come broken hearted to me, deeply grieved mostly, as I sit here by the pool. You lay your head in my lap and I sing you the most favorite of your elvish melodies to lull you into peaceful sleep."

"My favorite?"

"Aye. It twas sung to you by your mother when you were but an elfling."

His heart nearly stopped. Now this was getting deeply personal and painful. His mother had crossed several millennia ago as he entered adulthood. He abruptly stood, glaring down at her angrily. "Do not speak of my mother! What would you know of her?"

"That she loves you dearly, fair one," she replied calmly, tending to the meat on the spit.

"I take my leave m'lady and pray to never cross paths again," he said, turning on his heel, not waiting for her reply.

"As you wish fair one. May the Valar watch over your path of life, Legolas son of Thranduil. We shall not meet again," she said softly, but Legolas heard every word. Blinded by his anger and tears, he didn't bother to turn back, mounting Arod and riding back to his encampment.

Several months passed since their strange meeting in the wood, and Legolas never gave it another thought. He was, yet again, leading a large contingent of warriors south to intercept a large band of Orcs, coming north from Ithilien. The eventual battle was hellatious, with much loss of life on both sides, he losing two of his closest friends fighting by his side. He had been slightly injured but nothing serious.

As he made his way from the healer's tent, his eyes clouded with tears as he reached his quarters. Closing the tent flap, he leaned against a support and let the tears come. How many more could he bear to lose before he gave into the grief? Why was he always left standing while those around him fell? What cruelty had cursed him, in the eyes of the Valar, keeping him in the world of the living, so that grief could consume his soul a piece at a time?

He undressed and lay upon his bed, tears still glittering in his eyes, as he passed into uneasy slumber, hoping for his dreams to comfort him as they always had. Nay, he would find no comfort this night. His dreams were black and full of malice. His only place of comfort was now filled instead with sorrow and the images of those felled in battle. Late into the night, he awoke in a cold sweat and to the death screams of his fallen comrades echoing in his mind.

For hundreds of years, always she waited for him, always she sang his pain away. Always she soothed his soul. Always. He shook the sleep from his mind, opened the tent flap and sat gazing at the star filled sky. Something was not right and his heart was uneasy, his head clouded with the events of the previous day. He had always been able to push the images of death and war out of his mind with the sweet peacefulness he found in his dreams. He was lost for a reason as to why this night was any different from those past.

Several more months of fighting ensued and had kept him from his home, longer than he would have liked. After every battle and skirmish he made his way to that waterfall, deep into the wood, hoping to find Naurêl or, at least, clarity to help him cope. Each time, he found himself alone, the sound of falling water tumbling into the crystal pool below. Inwardly, he was in great turmoil but, to the outside world, he was the solid pillar of a leader and fierce warrior. Now he had been abandoned by his only source of solstice and was yearning for death to bring him peace. He held to only for the sake of his warriors and his people. His royal status prevented his personal wants to unfold to his wishes.

He needed to make it home soon. He needed the council of a healer, his elders, someone that could help him right his world that had gone frighteningly awry. He sent silent prayers to the Valar, to help him see what he needed to do to right his rapidly sinking soul. The night before he was finally setting out for Mirkwood, he decided to visit that secluded pool and waterfall once more. After all, it was a place in his dreams that gave him solstice and peace. Maybe he would find a shred of his sanity in its waters just this once. He left word that he would meet up with his warriors in a few days and then set out for his destination.

By dusk, he had made it to the secluded glade and set up camp for the night. He sat beneath the same tree that he and Naurêl had the year before in front of the fire. Naurêl...Her name had not crossed his mind since the day of their meeting. As he left her that eve, he had immediately regretted his sharp words to her but his pride kept him from turning back. He gazed over the pool and into the waterfall remembering how, in his dreams of the past, it sang as it fell into the mirrored pool. He made his way to the edge and looked at his reflection, not liking what he beheld. He looked haggard and worn, weary of battle and longing for home, longing for something other than empty sleep and loneliness.

"Why do you return here fair one? Nothing remains as you knew it, and you no longer find peace here."

The voice startled him so that he almost tumbled into the pool. A fair woman's face appeared in the reflection beside his. "Naurêl!" he whispered, as he looked over his shoulder.

She stood straight and tall, gazing at him wistfully. "This place holds nothing for you Prince of Mirkwood. Why do you return?"

"I hoped for clarity m'lady, in this place of beauty."

"You shall find none fair one. You seek such in the wrong place."

He found himself suddenly getting angry, a slow boil building in his veins. "What do you know of my troubles? What do you know of what I seek?" He hissed, rising to his feet and stepping closer to her. She calmly remained where she was, not flinching in the wake of his anger.

"You yourself have told me of your pain and torment, as clearly as you spoke your wishes of our paths never to cross again."

"Well then, if this be true, you do not listen well or you would not be standing before me!" he spat.

"I hear all that you speak fair one, and stand before you because of your plea for your dreams of old to return. Only you can reclaim this wish. You still do not see do you Legolas?"

Seething now, he quickly covered the distance between them and grasped her firmly by her shoulders, shaking them slightly as he spoke."I see nothing Naurêl! Nothing but blood, battle and blackness. I see death and hopelessness! I have been plunged into despair and am dying slowly!"

"Aye you are."

"Stop with the riddles! I demand it! Speak plainly sorceress!" he nearly shouted, digging his fingertips into her shoulders.

She sighed sadly and did not flinch, still standing her ground. "Your anger again blinds you fair one. I must leave you for there is nothing I can help you with any longer. You ask for help then spurn it. I grow weary of your indecision and you have few opportunities left to you Son of Thranduil," she said, as she easily slipped from his vice-like grip and walked towards the deep wood.

He stood in shock staring at his hands, then to the woman walking from him. Regaining his composure, he bolted after her only to come to a screeching halt as an unseen force held him at bay.

Naurêl spun on her heel and faced Legolas, who was rooted to the spot, glaring with such angry fire in her eyes that they literally glowed. She moved directly in front of him, not a hand's distance away, literally standing toe-to-toe with the prince. She stood nearly at his height and was lithe and muscular. "Must everything be spelled out? Do you think the Valar do not hear, do not see, do not care? You send up your pleas, your prayers. You are sent all that you ask for, you have always been given what you ask for by the Valar, by your father, by all whom you have asked of in your life. You are blessed to have the ear of the Holy Ones, as your purpose is of great importance on this earth.

You stand while others fall because of your destiny. You have been given two opportunities to help you on your life's journey, and you have thrown both away. Do you not see as of yet? I am the woman in your dreams Legolas, and when you turned me away you lost that which was given you long ago. Have you not felt the great love surrounding you? Have you never wondered why you have found no one of this earth to love forever?

You have been given a great gift that shall be with you for eternity, if you only swallow your pride and trust in the Valar. They have put their hopes in you fair one. I have been with you since you came from the stars young one, and I was to remain even after you returned to them. This is now in question.

Should I leave you this night, never shall you see or hear of me again. You shall continue to walk in the darkness you now stumble through, blinded and alone, never finding the peace that you seek, but your purpose will be fulfilled, that will be seen to. You will forever be filled with the sadness, emptiness and despair you now feel, until the day you sail for the shores of Valinor, alone, never to have loved, never having been loved.

You cannot deny that you always loved the woman of your visions, you have always loved me and I you. This is not a forced feeling between us, it is a true love granted by the Valar. We were given the opportunity to finally meet, in the reality of this world, and you threw it away without thought. My anger, no, fury towards you is without measure Legolas of Mirkwood! Without measure!" She waved her hand and Legolas fell forward, as the force holding him up disappeared.

"I shall give you one more chance to honor the will of the Valar fair one, and reluctantly at that! You shall not see or hear from me again until you have made your decisions," she said, in great anger, as she began to disappear into the trees.

"Naurêl! Wait! Do not leave! Please...!" he begged. She stopped, hearing the anguish in his voice. He slowly walked up behind her placing his hands gently on her shoulders and turning her to face him. "Naurêl, hiril-nîn, you speak the truth. I have always loved her, you. I so wish for the comfort to return to me. I was confused, not understanding what was happening when we met. I did not know why you were so familiar to me, angry that you knew me so well and I could not figure for the life of me why.

I remember the dreams began shortly after my mother crossed and did not relate you, the woman of my visions or the death of my mother together.

I do not wish you to leave Naurêl. Come with me, back to Mirkwood. I need to learn more and I am asking for help. Please, come back with me hiril-nîn."

Her gaze bore through him to his soul, and he felt as if the weight of 10,000 stone had been lifted from his shoulders. She cupped his face in her hands and lightly kissed his lips. "I shall come with you fair one," she whispered in his ear, as she took his hand and led him to their horses.

They met up with the elven army the next day and took another to arrive in Mirkwood. As the days and months passed, Naurêl and Legolas began to move past the unique relationship they had formed and found themselves deeply in love. As more time passed, Legolas found that he no longer sought out his dreams for comfort, for now they literally were nestled softly in his arms every night. He found her to be a most intriguing and fascinating woman, though he thought her to be more than of this world. She admitted only to being of immortal blood but nothing more would she divulge.

In addition to her personality, amazing and seemingly supernatural and elvish abilities, he found her to be highly skilled in both blade and bow beyond any mortal or immortal he had ever seen. She fought as fiercely as any warrior in Mirkwood's army, and his father was absolutely enthralled by her, helplessly wrapped around her little finger.

One evening after dinner, they were strolling through the palace gardens when Legolas suddenly stopped, took Naurêl in his arms and kissed her passionately. "By the Valar meleth-nîn! Where in Arda did that come from?" she exclaimed breathlessly and giggling.

"From the deepest of my heart lirimaer. I need to ask you something very important," he whispered, kissing her again. She gazed at him expectantly. "Do you love me Naurêl? Truly love me?"

She blinked quizzically, being taken by surprise by his question. "My dear elf - I love you more than life itself. My heart wants for no other."

Legolas paused then said, "I wish to bind with you Naurêl, more than anything I have ever wanted for in my life. I want you for my life's mate meleth-nîn, as I have given my heart to you completely."

Naurêl stood there in stunned silence, mouth slightly ajar. "Aye fair one, I too wish to take you as my life's mate meleth-nîn and bind you to me for all eternity." She barely finished the sentence before Legolas crushed his lips upon hers, as they fell to the soft green grass, tightly entwined.

Within the month, and during the rising of the full moon, Legolas and Naurêl were bound eternally to each other, to the delight of all in Mirkwood. As the ages passed their souls bound as well and neither was seen without the company of the other, such depth was their love and devotion to each other. Any who saw the couple would think that their love was newly met and not a love of 500 years.

As the dawning of the third age came into being, so came the dark days, as Sauron's evil began to take hold of the lands north of Mordor and encroached upon the forest of Mirkwood. More and more war parties were assembled and led by Legolas and Naurêl, to the southern borders and into Ithilien. It was during one such march that Legolas's world, as he had come to know it, crashed down upon him. The battle was exceptionally fierce and the elves, thought victorious, took heavy losses. One of the greatest of losses to Mirkwood was the death of Naurêl, who took an errant elvish arrow to the heart. Legolas caught her before she fell, literally dying there beside her from grief.

"Legolas...fair one...do not grieve for we shall...love again, this I promise..." she gasped several times then continued, "'Tis not...your time. Do not follow me for all of Middle Earth depends on you and your purpose." She began to breathe with great difficulty. "We shall love again in this life...fair one..." she whispered, closing her eyes. Her chest rose and fell for the last time, as she passed from life. He took her back to Mirkwood and buried her beneath the green mounds of fallen warriors. His grief was deep, but he was not allowed to follow it into darkness. It was if an unseen guiding hand kept him out of the abyss and focused on the events that were enveloping Middle Earth. His pain gradually faded but her memory was tucked safely and lovingly into the far reaches of his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**ooOoo**

**Chapter 6 - Awakening and the Fruits of One's Labors**

Legolas woke with tears streaming down his face and squinting, as the sun danced upon his hazed eyes. He looked down at Tamuril curled tightly against his chest through his tears, finally understanding. He drew her even tighter causing her to stir and wake.

Seeing his tears caused her concern. "Meleth-nîn? What troubles you fair one," she said, brushing tears from his cheeks. He just gazed at her gorgeous violet eyes and kissed her with a passion she had not felt in centuries.

"Naurêl..." He whispered, dropping sweet kisses to her lips, face, neck and shoulders, leaving her breathless and wanting for more. Upon hearing that ancient name, she took in a sharp breath, tears springing from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks.

"You have remembered fair one..." she whispered, as they hungrily devoured each other's lips over and over again, before they realized where they were. With their passion forced to cool under the circumstances, they reluctantly rose for the day to the surprise of Gimli and Aragorn.

"And mellyn-nîn - my friends, how long have you been in camp, pray tell?" asked Aragorn, brow raised.

"Since dusk of last eve," chuckled Legolas, kissing Tamuril playfully.

"Your hunt was successful I see," said the ranger, delighted to see the girl safely nestled in Legolas's embrace.

"Aye mellon-nîn, most successful," he said, kissing the top of her head.

The four hunters made their way to Mirkwood where they were immediately taken to royal chambers to rest and relax. Legolas and Tamuril went to his royal rooms to prepare for their meeting with King Thranduil. "Tami..." breathed Legolas, taking her in his arms, as soon as the door closed behind them, kissing her passionately and laying her on his bed.

"It has been many years fair one. I have missed you more than life itself Legolas," as she cried softly in his arms.

"Shh lirimaer, we are together again, as you promised so long ago," he said softly, as they kissed each other's face and neck.

"I wanted so much to return to you sooner but it was not time. Forgive me meleth-nîn. Forgive me for having to have stayed away from you for so long. My heart cried for you endlessly and all I had was our binding to keep me close to you."

"Why could you not return to me as you wished meleth? I do not understand."

"Your destiny was at hand. You were to become one of the nine meleth. Your focus on your purpose would be distracted by my presence, as I would have fought by your side. This was not to be and I was held from returning until after the Great War. I was lost without your touch and pined for neigh over 200 years, until I was able to return to you. Truly, I never had left you Legolas, and I remained in your dreams as I always had, only in a more subtle way, through spirit.

Your memory of me and the deep grief you held, needed to pass quickly, to the back of your mind, so that you would not grieve to death, as you and your skills were needed by the Fellowship. All the powers of the Valar were poured into you, to ensure your survival, until you joined the nine and completed the journey."

"You died from an elvish arrow, but you told me that you could only be slain by immortal hands, and by one of your rank."

"The arrow did not come from an elf, Legolas."

"Ai'? Then from whom?"

"A Vala, meleth-nîn. Such was your importance to the survival of Middle Earth that they took me from this earth themselves."

"Are you here to stay meleth-nîn, here with me?"

"Aye fair one. I am here to stay until we sail to the shores of Valinor."

"You shall sail with me? You of the Valar?"

"Aye, meleth. I plan on being by your side always, even as I enter my birthplace."

Legolas gazed into her eyes, seeing the ages, past even his own long life. And he saw something else so familiar, passion. A deep seated love for him as old as Middle Earth itself. He realized that he held the origins of his own creation in his arms, as he hungrily dropped kisses upon her forehead, cheeks, and lips as both fell into love's fires.

Though bound in another age, Legolas and Tamuril renewed their binding in the summer, midway into the forth age, their days being spent in relative peace, broken occasionally by a skirmish with small bands of orcs, and the last of Mirkwood's spiders. Eventually, they took some of their people to settle Ithilien and their reign restored peace and prosperity in the region, to its renowned glory of old.

Upon the passing of Eldarion, Aragorn's son, nearly 100 years after they had settled Ithilien, the two ancients sailed into the West along with the last remaining members of the Eldar. Tamuril was giggling throughout the long journey, nearly driving Legolas insane with curiosity.

"What causes such mirth meleth that you must drive me mad?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

"In over 11,000 years, I have never brought anyone home to meet my parents!"

"Ai'! Aye, I can now see the reason for your mirth," he said chuckling, and kissing her playfully. "Twould please me greatly to finally meet them, and I may even ask them for your hand, as is proper!" he said, causing Tamuril to burst into musical giggles once again.

"Have I ever told you how much I love the sound of your laughter?"

"No fair one, you never have."

"It makes my heart sing, as your love for me has since the very first day we met...Naurêl..."

"My love...I have not heard that name from your lips for..." she reached up lightly caressing his cheek, kissing him passionately, "...too, too long," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Starfire..It suits you meleth-nîn, as if it was made only for you," Legolas whispered in reply.

"Twas made for me Legolas. 'Tis the birth name my parents gave me, as the stars were being hung in the sky...before the Counting of Time." As she spoke, the shimmering shores of Valinor gradually appeared before them in the distance.

Legolas gazed down at her in stunned silence upon hearing her words. She smiled sweetly up at him, leaning into his chest, as he held her tightly, kissing her head. As the ship gently glided into the dock, Legolas noticed a golden glow, emanating from the center of the group of elves gathering on shore to meet their loved ones.

Tamuril, now once again Naurêl, gently pulled away from their embrace and leaned against the rail, turned away from him, looking towards the crowd. Legolas looked at her in awe, as a golden aura enveloped her tall, lithe and muscular frame. Her raven black hair began to tumble to the back of her knees, and was now flecked with shimmering strands of gold and silver. She appeared to gain in height, as she now stood head to head with him.

He reached out for her, slowly turning her to face him, and took in a sharp breath. Her eyes! Her eyes were now the deepest of violet, surrounded with turquoise and gold bands that glittered in the bright sunlight. "Tamuril!" He gasped.

"Naurêl, fair one, I am Naurêl. You now see me as I truly am." Her voice was ethereal as it floated sweetly over his ears, and he felt that bolt of lightening course through to his soul, as a great comforting warmth wash over him.

She was now taller than he, by a good six inches, and the embodiment of the goddess that she was. "Meleth-nîn..." gasped Legolas, as he put his right fist over his heart, and bowed in front of her.

She cupped his face in her hands, raising his gaze to hers. "You will never bow to me again fair one. Never. I am, and always will be your wife and equal," she said softly, as she embraced him, kissing him tenderly. Tears were falling from his blue eyes as he took in the ethereal beauty that flooded his sight. "Come love. Come meet Manwë and Varda, my parents and Valar," she said, taking his hand and walking off the ship. The golden aura Legolas had seen in the crowd earlier was now in the appearance of two very tall golden figures, a man and a woman, standing in front of all on the shore. Upon seeing Naurêl, both came forward with open arms.

Naurêl dropped Legolas's hand and ran into their arms. "Naurêl! Daughter! You are home. Finally and forever!"

"Aye Adar, Naneth, I am home," she said, crying in her father's arms then in her mother's. As they parted, she turned to Legolas who was standing in awe and bewilderment at what his eyes beheld. "Legolas come...come here meleth-nîn," she said, reaching for his slightly shaking hand.

"Legolas son of Thranduil, welcome my son. Welcome. We have waited so long for this glorious meeting," said Manwë, taking him in a warm embrace. Manwë was very tall and extremely handsome. He, like Varda, was surrounded by a golden aura, flecked with blue around its edge. His hair was long, flowing almost to his ankles and gathered in three long braids, one on each side of his head and the third flowing down the back.

"Legolas I am most honored to finally meet you. You have made my daughter most happy, and we have not been able to keep her in Valinor since you came from the stars," said Varda, taking him into a like embrace. She was very tall, taller than he, even taller than Naurêl, and the most beautiful woman besides his wife he had ever beheld in his life.

"M'lord, m'lady. 'Tis I who am honored." he said bowing. "Stand tall Legolas. You bow to neither of us. Ever. You have done well in your life and all of Arda is in your and the Fellowship's debt, for all you have sacrificed and done selflessly. You have also taken our daughter into your heart and given her great joy and love. Without you, she would have faded into the Great Void, such was the depth of her sadness and loneliness, even here in Valinor. We would have lost this joy, this love of our lives, were it not for you. We are pleased that you chose to overcome your grief through the hardships, sacrifices and loss you have faced. We have loved you as our own son Legolas, from the moment of your birth," said Varda, golden tears creeping down her glowing cheeks.

"Come my dear, there is someone who is aching to see you," she whispered, taking his hand and leading him and Naurêl into the crowd. Standing alone among the throng was a tall and lovely woman, long golden braids flowing over her deep green robes. "Naneth!" cried Legolas, nearly falling forward in his haste to take her in his arms.

"My son...my son..." She whispered, tears streaming down her face. "How long I have waited for your return to me."

"I have missed you more than you could imagine. I have had an empty place in my heart since you left us and only Naurêl has brought peace to my soul. I love you Naneth," said Legolas softly, tears gliding down his own face, holding her close.

"Naurêl, daughter, you have made my heart glad. You have watched over my son since his birth and given him comfort and peace. I have loved you as my own and am indebted to you for eternity."

"Lindomel Hiril, you owe me nothing and there is no debt to repay. I have loved Legolas since his star was born, he just did not realize it at first," She giggled, taking his hand. As they renewed their bonds, a large group of elven warriors made their way to where Legolas and the others stood.

Naurêl, knowing who they were, slowly turned Legolas in their direction. She steadied his arm, as he was overcome with emotion on seeing his long lost comrades and friends. After he had greeted each one, he turned to Naurêl, beckoning her into his arms.

"Meleth-nîn, dineth- nîn - my love, my wife, I am home, we are home, forever. Never again to be called to arms, we can forever lay down bow and blade. Peace has come to us at last, and it is the sweetest feeling ever to overcome my soul, other than your coming into my life."

"I will always be in your life, fair one, always," she said, kissing him softly. "Come, let me show you our dwelling, a place of such great beauty that your eyes will be blinded." She took his hand and rejoined Manwë and Varda. All four climbed into a golden carriage pulled by four white stallions, who nodded their heads in welcome to the new arrivals.

They made their way up a long winding path, towards a mountain of great height in the distance. Legolas stared in wonder at the beauty of the surrounding landscape, as they passed through a shimmering silver and gold-leaved forest, and meadows of emerald green. Naurêl watched his expressions change with each feature they passed, giggling softly. "What humor do you find in my speechlessness giggling wife?"

"I do so because where we travel to will make all you now behold pale in comparison, meleth-nîn."

"Truly?"

"Truly my son, for you have seen only a taste of the lands of Valinor," answered Manwë, as the carriage began to climb a winding path up the foot of the mountain.

"What place is this?" Exclaimed Legolas, as he caught a glimpse of a great palace at its peak.

"Tantaquitel fair one...my home," replied Naurêl, clasping his hand to her chest, kissing his lips gently.

_Tantaquitel_ He mouthed the word in disbelief. The mountain of the Valar, center of Valinor! He was in shock. Never had he thought he would have been privy to the goings on of the Valar. Let alone becoming a part of the family of the two most renowned of his creators. Naurêl was finding all of this bewilderment on his part quite humorous and somewhat cute if she dared say.

The carriage came to a standstill and all but Legolas stepped out. It was as if he were unaware of the fact that they had reached their destination. Naurêl peered into the carriage, gazing at the noble, and now befuddled elf prince, giggled and reached in to take his hand. "Shall you reside in this coach for all eternity, or will you part yourself from your seat, and join your wife in our chambers meleth-nîn?" she said musically, as Legolas blinked and took her hand.

Manwë and Varda took their leave as Legolas and Naurêl stood outside the palace entrance. He gazed upon the glistening walls that appeared to be made of solid Mithril, and had a shimmering pale glow emanating from its surface. The walls soared at least 400 or so feet into the air, topped by four towers on each corner that were lost in golden clouds.

The outer architecture had gold embellishments, made up of carvings and engravings throughout the smooth walls. Gently, Legolas lightly touched the stonework and felt it vibrate with life beneath his long slender fingers. Surprisingly, it was warm to his touch. As they made their way through the portico, he marveled at the great golden embellished oaken doors, rising over 10 feet above him. Upon entering the great hall, he gazed in wonderment at the marbled and onyx flooring, glowing beneath their feet, and walls. Highly ornate pillars, richly carved and inlaid with more precious metals, lined the long hallway that was interspersed with several doors on either side.

Naurêl led him up a grand, winding staircase of rich woods that literally shimmered, and was also warm to the touch. At the head of the wide staircase, Naurêl turned right, down a long hall decorated with many rich tapestries lining the walls on both sides, interspersed with softly glowing lamps that appeared to be perpetually lit. After passing several doors, she stopped in front of an exceptionally beautiful door, on the right side of the hall, that was inlaid with precious stone - lapis, turquoise and black onyx - encrusted with precious jewels and Mithril throughout.

She raised her hand and the door whispered open on its own, to Legolas's great surprise and awe. Naurêl just raised her brows with a twinkle in her eyes, as she giggled softly, leading him inside by the hand. "Welcome home fair one, meleth-nîn. I hope it pleases you," said Naurêl, kissing him tenderly.

"Naurêl, forgive me. I am overwhelmed. Never have I beheld such splendor, such wonderment. I am at a loss for words," he whispered, gazing around the main living area. To the right of the doorway was the entrance to the bed chamber, to the left was another large room.

She led him to the room on the left, into the sitting and library area that had a magnificent view of all of Valinor. It was located in one of the four towers, overlooking the entire island. The room was octagonal, having a solid wall of windows encircling it, allowing for a 360 degree view of the undying lands. "Naurêl, this is bewildering! This is all of Valinor?"

"Aye Legolas, 'tis all of the undying lands. Tis the place I have spent the most of my time when home," she said, leading him back into the main living space. She paused here for a moment, allowing Legolas to take in what he just beheld. She then took his hand once again and led him into the bed chamber. At this point, Legolas was totally overcome by emotion, coupled with the amazing transformation of his wife before his eyes. He glanced at her, as she was looking away for a moment, feeling a wave of great love and desire wash over him. As she let go of his hand, he quickly grasped it back and pulled her into an embrace, dropping kisses onto her lips and throat, then lifted her off her feet and laid her onto the bed. He climbed up by her side, leaned forward and brushed his lips over her ear. "Naurêl, meleth-nîn," he whispered, sending a hundred jolts of lightening throughout her body.

He then lifted her hair from her neck and softly kissed the back of it, each kiss becoming sweeter and sweeter by the moment. He moved from her neck, following her jaw line, continuously dropping kisses the entire way and nipping her skin teasingly. Finely moving to her lips, he took her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled it carefully, his eyes not once leaving hers. She found herself trying to kiss him but every time, he pulled away, a small smirk gracing his lips.

"You do that on purpose meleth-nîn …please…do not play...," she begged.

"What do you want?" His hand came up to her hair, stroking the silken tresses.

"I…"

"Tell me what you want," he whispered once more, as he pulled her closer. Their lips were barely touching now and she could feel the hotness of his breath clashing against her own.

"You…" she whispered as she looked into his azure blue eyes, now dark with desire.

Legolas leant in again and she found herself wanting to kiss him more than anything, but he only resisted by pulling away and teasing her all the more. She felt she would surely go mad if she didn't feel those full and soft lips against her own again soon. "Legolas…" she murmured softly, pulling at his collar, trying to draw him nearer, before his lips crashed down upon her own. The kiss was so intense that she felt her mind lose all ability to form a coherent thought, and swirl madly into dizziness. His lips devoured hers over and over again, his tongue pressing against her own like his life depended on it, and the urge to feel his flesh against her own was too overpowering. If he didn't take her soon she would surely go insane. She deftly rolled him quickly over onto his back, taking him quite by surprise, leaned up on her knees, allowing her outer robes to fall away and then began to nimbly undo his tunic and shirt, kissing his chest as she went.

As she drew the garments from his shoulders, he sat up and swung his legs off of the bed, allowing her to remove his leggings and boots. As soon as she had dropped his clothing to the floor, he quickly swept her back onto the bed and resumed killing her slowly with passionate kisses, and softly caressing her body with agonizing slowness. Long, slender fingers slowly undid her tunic and shirt, gently rolled the garments off her shoulders, kissing her neck and shoulders all the while, unhurriedly. Naurêl twisted her hands in the sheets, praying to any deity within earshot, that this agony would end soon, as she had little composure left. He then began to unlace her leggings, drawing them down to the tops of her boots, kissing his way to her soft belly and around the edges of the leggings at her hips. "Legolas, now, please, you are torturing me!" she pleaded, in broken gasps.

Legolas made his way back to her side and buried his face in her hair. "No meleth, not yet," he whispered in her ear, as he lightly traced the outline of her ear's delicate arched shell with his tongue, eliciting a soft moan from her, as her eyes slid shut in pure ecstasy. He then made his way back to where he had left off, unlacing her boots and dropping them to the floor. With agonizing slowness, he drew her leggings down past her hips, over her long lithe legs and muscular calves, caressing her body all the while. As she felt the clothing finally release from her body, she reached down for him, intent on ending this torturous play once and for all.

She drew him up to her, capturing his lips in a deep kiss and holding him firmly to her. "Meleth...you shall surely kill me this night," she gasped, as he managed to continue his passionate assault even in her tight embrace.

"I know of no one dying in this way," he whispered, as he nuzzled her neck, hands still moving along her form lightly and slowly.

"Do you want this meleth…?" he breathed into her ear. She could only moan as she felt his hands stroke her body skillfully. She felt her body automatically arch upwards when his hand brushed against her lower flesh teasingly, his passion digging hard into her inner thigh. After all this time, all the ages that had past, it was difficult to believe that he still had the same effect upon her. She still felt the fires of passion as hotly as the first time they had shared their love over 1500 years before.

In the earliest days of their relationships, as a Vala, she did not realize that, a creature of the earth, could bring her to the pinnacle of love's desires as passionately as this one, this one of the elven kind. Goddess that she was, Naurêl could take her love to the heights of pleasure, past the stars and back again, in the blink of an eye, nearly killing him in the process, and wanting for more, but she had come to find the earthly pleasures in Legolas's arms much more to her liking, than through the use of her godly charms. And he found his desires heightened in her arms as well.

She managed to find her voice, but barely. She breathed her answer, haltingly and between gasps, "More than you could know fair one...more than you could know...take me…..now...before I go insane..."

He obliged with unbridled passion, as he hovered over her momentarily, gazing into her gorgeous eyes. The anticipation on her part was maddening and her patience was worn thin as a hair. Her need to feel him within was such that nothing else mattered, and she sought nothing more than filling that need. Legolas, well aware of the effects his passionate torment had had upon her, watched her face as he slowly joined with her, watching as her eyes slid closed in pure ecstasy.

At that very moment, Naurêl lost the last vestments of her sanity and composure, drawing him closer, almost wanting to become a part of him, nearly digging her nails into his firm, taunt flesh. The same wave of desire and passion overtook him as well, as he felt her heat envelope him, gasping along with her when their bodies became one. For a very long moment he didn't move within her. He reveled in the pleasure of being joined to her as she enveloped him, the pressure as her body adjusted to his passionate invasion, dropping kisses to her neck, shoulders and lips. Her lips were hot to his touch, and he always marveled at the effect they had upon him at the moment that they would join. His desire heightened and, very slowly, he began to move within her, heightening the level of pleasure for them both.

They moved together as they found their rhythm, sometimes gently, other times with fiery abandon, always locked in kisses and constantly caressing each other, as the height of passion slowly and steadily rose, until her self-induced restraint and self-control shattered like glass, and she cried out wordlessly, her body falling into shards of rapture. While her body still trembled around and beneath him, he reached his fingers into her thick raven-black hair, drawing her closer still, and pushed inside her deeply, going suddenly still, as a heady gasp tore from her lips. She watched as his eyes grew wider and saw the instant the passionate release crashed into him, as a white-hot fire erupted where their bodies joined. Then his entire body shook gently and trembled, as he sank on top of her with a long, low moan, she reveling in feeling his full weight upon her.

After long moments, Legolas gently released himself from her, drawing a soft moan from Naurêl's lips, as she reached out to draw him closely to her side. Enveloped in the warmth of each other's embrace, they drifted into a contented slumber. As the pale pink shards of a new dawn crept over the horizon, the two lovers stirred in each other's arms, each not wanting to move from the other's embrace. They shared a tender kiss as they gazed into each other's eyes, silence enveloping the couple for a long time. Finally, Legolas broke it with a kiss.

"Meleth-nîn, after all these years, it is as if we have shared our love for the first time this night. Yet, something felt so different, so ethereal, and I cannot place the feeling. I have never felt such in your arms," breathed Legolas across her lips, as he drew her into a deep passionate kiss.

"Aye, fair one, as it should be, for 'tis the first time we have shared our love in essence."

He looked at her in confusion. "How so, Naurêl? We have loved each other for millennia!" Her gentle, musical laughter filled his heart with joy and ears with happiness, even though he gazed at her quizzically.

"We are in Valinor now Legolas. The place of my birth. We have essentially begun a new life together. You have only come to know me as I truly am, and you have made love to a Vala for the first time, meleth-nîn. That in and of itself is of an unearthly experience. Ethereal is a good description," she giggled, as Legolas smiled shyly, a patch of crimson blush appearing on the tips of his ears . "Nothing is as it was in Arda. Our joinings will hold greater passion; our love for each other will grow stronger, deeper. We will walk within the soul of the other in a way not possible on Arda. All things experienced of the earth, increase tenfold, mayhap more so, here in Valinor, meleth. You will learn the full extent of what it means to be bonded for all eternity. More so than any Eldar here in Aman.

Your experiences here cannot be compared to those born of the elven kind meleth, as you are wed to a Vala. You will come to know many wondrous things, some not revealed even to the Eldar themselves, as a result of our bond. You have been granted great blessings Legolas, greater than any of your kind that walk this holy land."

He gazed at her in total silence, trying to take in all that she had just spoken. His long, slender fingers, silently tracing the outline of her face, her eyes, lips and nose. His fingertips rested gently at her chin, turning her face up to his. "What have I done to deserve such accolades Naurêl? I am but a simple elf, a warrior, nothing more. I have lived my life in a good way, I have hoped, and have given aid where needed, but I cannot see how I have been found so worthy of these holy gifts that have come my way."

Naurêl looked deeply into his eyes, seeing unshed tears beginning to well up from their depths. "Twas your destiny to do all that you have done. Your birth was purposed for the great tasks that were placed before you. You chose of your own free will to undertake that which the Valar placed in your path, though you were also given the choice to do naught. You were unwavering in your duties and loyalties, even when beset with great sacrifices and the loss of one whom you loved deeply. My birth may be said to have been of destiny as well, for I pleaded with my parents to allow me to watch over you upon your birth into Arda. 'Tis because of their allowance, that I was able to take form in your world and seek you out. Our fates were joined before both our births, I have been told. They realized the great purpose of both our existences, as there are no children born to the Valar, save myself. We were born for each other fair one, never to be parted. Never. You captured my heart and soul young one. Know this Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood, you have earned and deserved all that has been bestowed upon you."

Legolas listened in silence as he held Naurêl gently in his arms. Slowly, he began to understand what his true purpose had been, as her words swirled in his mind. He felt a bit ashamed of his past behavior, as he fought his destiny, noting that this was as Aragorn did all those years ago. Her words from their first meeting, when he first knew her as Naurêl, well over a millennia ago, came back to haunt him. He released Naurêl from his arms and laid back on the bed, lost in his thoughts. She noted the change in his mood, knowing what troubled him. She turned on her side to face him, brushing stray tendrils of golden hair from his eyes and face. She did not speak, only caressed his face with the back of her hand, providing comfort. Her hand drifted from his face to his neck, then to his chest, tracing comforting circles with her fingers.

Legolas closed his eyes, reveling in her feather light touch and the soothing warmth it provided. Tears began to form and fall silently from his closed eyes, as he reached for her and pulled her close. "Naurêl, please forgive me if I caused you pain, all those years ago. My words were sharp and angry and you did not deserve such. Never did you deserve such treatment, as I had never intended to hurt you. You had only tried to help me to see what lay before me. To ease my pain and despair. You were a great gift and I spurned your presence for so long. Forgive me meleth-nîn. I beg of you."

Naurêl remained silent, raised herself up slightly and continued her ministrations over his body, gazing into his eyes and smiling. The sadness he had felt seemingly melted from his heart, as she continued to caress away his remorse. He had never felt such comfort and safety in his adult life from a woman. She then softly kissed his face and lips, slowly moved to his neck, then shoulders, then chest, then took his hands and kissed first the backs, then the palms. She moved farther along to his wrists, feeling the pulse points beat beneath her lips.

He absently stroked her raven tresses, totally relaxed and unable to move much more than he was. His entire body sank heavily into the bed, as he began to feel a comforting slumber creep over him. He glanced over at Naurêl, who simply smiled sweetly, as his eyes unfocused and hazed over, he drifted off to sleep. Naurêl silently rose and donned her heavy velvet robe and crept from the room, making her way down to the family sitting room. There she met her parents for breakfast.

"Good morn daughter," said Manwë, rising and hugging her.

"Good morn Ada, nana," she replied, kissing her mother's cheek.

"Where is Legolas this fine new day?" asked Manwë, looking behind Naurêl.

"He still sleeps. All the excitement of the past day was a bit overwhelming for him I think," said Naurêl, a small smile curling around her lips.

"Come child, tell me. You overwhelmed him did you not?" chuckled Manwë.

"Aye, I had a hand in his condition this morn, I admit," she said, settling into a chair between the both of them.

Varda gazed over at her daughter. "Are you happy Naurêl? Truly happy? You were so distressed when you left us last," she asked.

"Aye nana, I am as happy as our kind can attain. I had never, in my wildest dreams, thought that an earth child, an Eldar from the stars, could give me such bliss and happiness. I truly feel that if we had not reunited as we did, that I would have faded of a broken heart into the Great Void. He has given me strength to exist when I only knew loneliness. Here in Valinor, I had always wondered why no other children had been born to the other Valar, until great knowledge had been granted me later in life. I thank you for bringing me into the world, my parents. I found my purpose in the love that you had provided, and ask for your forgiveness for the many tirades you had to endure from me in the past."

"Child, what foolishness you speak! There is nothing to forgive. We had always known of your purpose and your loneliness. 'Tis why we agreed for you to travel between planes as we did. We knew what you would find. We could not explain these things, as you needed to sort all out for yourself," said Varda, taking Naurêl into her arms. When she drew away, her father then took her in his arms.

"Come. Eat. We shall speak of times past, as well as times to come later. Now is time for family," he said reseating himself.

Legolas awoke several hours later, to bright sunshine streaming into the great bay window of the bedchamber. He reached out for Naurêl but found emptiness instead. Confused, he rose and donned his robe, making his way from the room and down to the family sitting room. He found the three of them seated around a gold table, laughing and reveling in their reunion.

"Legolas, my son! Good morn. Come, join us for a bit of breakfast. I shall have something brought for you?" said Manwë, pulling out a chair for the elf.

"Aye, I would like that," he said, taking a seat next to Naurêl, giving her a light kiss. She took his hand, lying on his lap, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"So, tell me Legolas, how sits your first day in Valinor?" asked Manwë.

"Quite overwhelming I must say. I still feel as though in a dream," he answered, glancing at Manwë, who was smiling broadly.

"Ah, I thought as much. Well, you have full run of your new home and the Undying Lands, my son. Enjoy. And do not try to see all in a day or two. You have all eternity to do so, remember that!" Manwë said with a laugh, as he and Varda rose to leave the couple to themselves. An elf maid brought a small tray of food in for Legolas and then cleared the table before she left.

"Did you sleep well meleth?" asked Naurêl, kissing his cheek.

"Better than I ever did in my life Naurêl. I can not explain the feeling of truly sleeping well for once," he stopped abruptly and gazed at the Vala beside him. "Pray, what did you do to me, minx that you are?" he said, raising a brow expectantly. She giggled, kissing his lips and drawing him into a passionate embrace.

"I merely lifted your distress and despair. Neither of which has any place in Valinor. Those times are long past and there is nothing to forgive. Brooding is not allowed here, meleth-nîn," she said with a grin.

"I do not brood!" he said haughtily, looking into Naurêl's eyes, seeing an 'oh-yes-you-do' look forming on her face.

"Do I?"

"Aye. 'Tis common for you."

"Ai'."

Silence.

He looked down at his plate and began to eat his breakfast, as Naurêl chuckled, rising from the table, and stood by the window overlooking the palace gardens. Legolas joined her shortly thereafter, and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head against her neck. "Your new life has begun fair one. No war, no worries, no pain, no sadness. 'Tis the paradise of our kind. You shall always be safe and comforted here meleth-nîn." she whispered, as he turned her to face him. He took her in a passionate embrace and kissed her with a renewed passion and fire, not wanting to ever let her out of his arms.


End file.
